Chapter 6: The Fall of the Stars

【Precedent】

There are no truths and lies in this world, only indisputable facts, but people always like to take things that are beneficial to them as true and stupidly call them the truth. As a result, countless hypotheses were used as pillars to construct the edifice of truth. Gradually, only a mirror is left in the eyes of the person, and at the end of the day, he has an epiphany that he is pursuing something that does not exist.

Section 1: Voodoo Lands

"Hatred casts a deadly bait, and if reason yields a little to emotion, the soul will fall into the abyss......

- [interlaced]

【Voodoo Land】

To the south of the magnificent barrier, at the end of the Storm Plains, there is a barren and barren area known as the "Voodoo Land". Once the administrative province of Molsen of the Southern Human Alliance, it was once rich and prosperous, and was the home of Valoran porcelain, from which Ionian porcelain-making techniques were derived. After the Anlomar Holy War, the kingdom of Agaste was divided between Demacia and Noxus, and it became the territory of Noxus until the Second Runetic War.

When it comes to the destruction of the world by magic, the Five Rune Wars are the best example of this, the ruins of Uttistan, the Feroni Moors, Kumon, and the Plague Jungle, including the Voodoo Lands we mention today, are all products of the magical wars. The voodoo lands were formed because of a dark history that was forbidden to be mentioned by the Demacians. During the Second Rune War, the Demacian army purchased bombs from Zaun that could spread poisonous fog in order to break through the closed city gates of Molson. The bomb itself was a test product of Hextech technology, and even the people of Zuan themselves did not know what kind of damage this poisonous fog would cause to humans and the environment. So, when the German army dropped these poison fog bombs into Molsen, the most tragic scene in Valoran's history happened. Those who inhaled those poisonous fogs became delirious, and they no longer knew their family and friends, but became bloodthirsty demons who killed people without blinking. Morson soon turns into a dead city where there are no more living people, and the only creatures in the city are a group of guys known as "mutants". Wanting to destroy evidence of their brutality, Demacia's army enlisted the best mages of the time and activated an ancient forbidden magic there. In this way, Morson disappeared from history and was replaced by a voodoo land of moors and swamps. The land is covered with a deadly poisonous fog that even the "mutants" cannot survive here. Legend has it that the mutants later fled to the Plague Jungle in the southeastern part of the Voodoo Lands, a forest destroyed by magic.

The above story is recorded in an ancient scroll, unknown to even Valoran's most learned elders. The reason why people can name the land of voodoo and mark it on the map is because of an organization in Noxus called the "Grey Order". They are the Vault Dwellers of the Noxian government and have settled here for many years through special magic. The members of the group are actually admirers of dark magic, a group of crazed warlocks, led by the famous warlock Gregory Hasta and his wife, the Shadow Witch Amorim. Even if you don't know these two, you must know their daughter, Anne the Dark Girl, a terrifying girl who uses forbidden fire magic.

[Text]

One

In an empty and dark hall, there stood eight tall warriors in black cloaks and masks, all of whom carried long swords behind their backs. The only source of light in the hall comes from the dome, where a circular space connects to the outside, and the basement is always indicated. Of course, this type of basement is extremely common in Noxus, and most societies and organizations choose such a place as a base.

The leader of the warrior is Tyrone, the famous hero of the League of Legends, and he is clearly distinguished from other fighters, one is that he is slightly shorter, and the other is that his hood is blood red. "There is no room for failure in this mission, we must find the murderer of Lord Darkville!" Tyrone began, his voice cold and gloomy, like an Assassin's Hidden Blade that could take someone's life at any moment.

The Shadowblade warriors didn't answer Tyrone, they just lowered their heads in unison, raised their hands to their chests, and held their left hand where their right hand had hidden their Hidden Blades. This is the "assassination salute" of the Shadow Blade Warriors, and by making this move, they are determined to complete the mission to the death.

This time, though, they didn't have a chance to complete their mission. Three streaks of black smoke suddenly appeared in the hall, and quickly transformed into human forms, which were three tall figures wearing black cloaks and large hoods. The Shadowblade Warriors didn't hesitate, and there was no chance that any of the intruders would be alive, unless—the hulkiest of the three intruders stepped forward, and at the same time, he drew his greatsword behind his back and slashed to death the two closest Shadowblade Warriors. The remaining six Shadow Warriors, with the exception of Tarone, the leader who stood still, hesitated for a second in surprise. It is this second that determines life and death. The man in black, with a stocky body, lifted his greatsword with unimaginable speed, and as a result of those losers who were in a daze in battle.

"Who are you!?" Tyrone looked down at his dead men, surprised to see that all of their wounds were in the same place.

"You won't forget me, Tyrone!" said the tallest of the three men in black as he walked up to Tyrone and took off his hood.

Tyrone recognized him immediately, and at the same time, he took a step back, "It's you, Mennu Amuel!" and then look at the guy named Mennu Amuel, his whole head is as black as charcoal, and he can't even see his facial features, except when he doesn't blink, he can see those yellow eyes.

"I'm glad you still remember me!" said Mennu Amuel with a smile, his voice so hoarse that he had to listen intently to know what he was saying.

"No way, you can't be alive! You died under Axio's spell!" Tyrone shook his head as he recalled the image in his mind, and yes, he saw with his own eyes that the man in front of him had been killed by Axio.

"Exio!?Exio Invoker!?I'm looking for revenge on him!" Mennu Amuel looked up, holding his chin up with his pitch-black left hand, and the knuckles of his fingers glowed yellow, "But this time, I'm going to destroy his masterpiece first, League of Legends!"

"Whether you're going to ruin League of Legends or not has nothing to do with me, why are you here!?" Tyrone frowned, his dark red eyes peeking out from between the visor, staring at Mennu's fingers, the yellow glow at his knuckles, to be exact.

"I want you to work with me, and I want to use the Shadowblades!" Mennu said straight to the point.

"You're delusional!" Tyrone looked furious, ready to rush to fight to the death.

"Have you always thought that you are the only one leading the Shadowblade?" Mennu turned and walked towards the pillar of light cast from the dome, pausing in front of it, "So, who sent the Shadowblade to assassinate the descendants of the Invokers?"

"It's you!" Tyrone pointed to Mennu's back, "I knew of someone who had sent undercover agents into the Order, secretly instigating our members on a mission to assassinate the descendants of the Wishers." ”

"There's no need to be so troublesome, Tyrone!" Mennu said, "I can control as many of your men as you need to use the Wisher Family's Mind Vision!"

"Bloodline experiment!?" Tyrone shuddered involuntarily, his dark red eyes flashing with surprise and fear, "Y-you filthy guys!"

"It's not dirty at all, Tyrone!" Mennu suddenly appeared behind Tyrone and put a hand on the other's shoulder, "Humans are creatures who are constantly striving for perfection, and merging two or even multiple bloodlines is a shortcut to perfection!"

"What the hell are you trying to do!?" Tyrone felt a chill down his spine, and despite his desperate resistance to Mennu's will, the power of the mind-sight technique penetrated into the depths of his soul and grabbed him like a giant tentacle.

"As we reorganize our forces, we will inevitably lack major generals. Valoran's best assassination organization, we've been coveting for a long time!" Mennu said, pulling out a black pendant from his pocket, a cross entwined with roses.

"Rose Black Cross!?you—" Tyrone's dark red eyes widened.

"Shhhh

"Uncle, where's Bezod?" said a man in black on the side, judging by his voice, it was a young man in his twenties.

Tyrone looked at the young man who had just spoken, although he couldn't see his face, but from the moment the other party first appeared here, he felt a little strange, this guy's power was very familiar, "You-you're not!?"

"Don't worry, Mocha!" Mennu said as he walked towards Mocha, "Our revenge has just begun, and Bezod must rely on the power of Anton Saron to get rid of it. What a happy ending, the disciple killed the Guru, just like it did forty years ago!"

"I've learned about Bezord's abilities through Arronie, and together we can kill him!" Mocha insisted, his actual thought was that he didn't want Anton Saron to be stained with blood, because then, Anrela-

"You're so kind, my child!" Mennu patted Mocha on the shoulder, "Kindness is a manifestation of cowardice, and the Avengers don't need this emotion, so kill as much as they want!"

"Mocha Amuel, you are such a sad man. Tyrone whispered to the side.

Two

Twenty-six months later

In the obsidian city of August, the temperature is always unpredictable. After a downpour, the air becomes humid and cold, and when there are no clouds, it becomes hotter than in the middle of summer. So, the best way to survive August is to sleep most of the day. Fronsa, for example, was just after a quarter past nineteen, and he was already asleep, and he was snoring like thunder. Fronza was wearing a gray robe, which had been awarded to him by the League of Legends half a year ago. Now he is the holder of the Silver Shield Emblem, the League of Legends Gray Jacket Summoner, and among the five great disciples, this is the highest level. Because of this, he has never changed his coat for half a year, and he has always worn this big gray robe, so that he smells like a stinky rag. Fronza's blonde hair was much shorter than before, it looked fresher, and there was a little more fine beard on his face, and if Ironi didn't remind him to cut his beard, he would have grown it long and turned himself into a middle-aged man.

"Hey, hey, it's time to get up, man!" a tall figure appeared beside Fronsa's bedside.

Fronza snorted twice, squinting at the guy standing next to him, "No—I'm going to watch it for a while—" He smirked twice, as if in a dream, "I haven't seen enough—"

The light in the room suddenly turned on, and the soft yellow light cut through the darkness, and Fronza frowned, stretched out his hand and waved it in mid-air, and he gradually saw the man beside him, which was Insominia. Insominia wears a brown robe with a bronze bird-shaped insignia pinned to the collar, which is the bronze bird insignia that symbolizes the brown-clad summoner. He was a few inches taller and more athletic than before, and the shredded black hair of two years ago was gone, replaced by a neat short haircut, making him look very energetic. If only the only thing that hasn't changed is the long sword he carries behind him.

"Mentor Bezod said that the storeroom in the northeast corner of the house has been converted into a bedroom, and you and Anton Salonn can move in. Insominia spoke, his voice a little thicker, but still magnetic.

"Then you tell him that you don't have to inform me. Fronza rolled over and faced the wall, "I want to pick up where I left off and continue with my dream." ”

"You'll have to help him carry his things, Asrema and I have official duties, and you're the only one who is the most idle!" Insominia grabbed Fronza's arm and pulled him up from the bed, "Go quickly, or I'll tell him about you sleeping on Asrema's bed." ”

"Isn't there still Ronnie" Fronza rubbed her eyes, still looking like she could fall asleep at any time, "She's more idle than me, let her help!"

"I'm sorry, I'm going to a party!" said Aroni as she walked in through the doorway. She wore a red tuxedo today with a white shawl, the skirt of which was long and ground-long, and the skirt perfectly accentuated her graceful curves. It feels like an immortal coming into the world, and the money is coming, and it refuses to fade away from the nobility and elegance that transcends the mundane. Compared with two years ago, she is a little more charming and a little less childish, especially after smearing bright red lip powder, the beauty of her temperament in her bones is unreservedly displayed. The black hair of the shawl, the perfect facial features, and the lovely round face are, in a phrase that Fronza often says, "She never needed makeup, because the Creator painted her when He created her".

When Fronza saw Eloni appear, he immediately sobered up, and it felt like someone had poured cold water on him, "Hmph, just say it's good to hook up with boys, we all understand!"

"Not really!" said Eloni as she limped over, "Look, dressed like this, you must be going to a banquet!"

"What's wrong with you? Sprained foot?" Insominia took Eroni's hand, fearing that she would fall.

"Humph!" Fronza turned his head and glanced at Arroni, "she doesn't wear high heels at all!"

"What does it have to do with you——!" Eroni was about to poke Fronza, but she was so emotional that she completely forgot that she was wearing high heels, and then there was a crunch sound of "click" from the bottom of her skirt, which was the sound of dislocated bones, "Ahhh

"You deserve it! you won't be going anywhere this time!" Fronza couldn't help but laugh as she looked at Eroni's tear-stained face.

- [paragraph]

"Actually, I think the orphanage is very good, I have lived there for two years, and I am familiar with everyone. "It was Anton Salon, who was pulling a flatbed truck full of stuff at the moment, and on the flatbed was Fronza, who was sleeping leisurely. Anton Salon, still wearing a beige robe and a brown knitted scarf, had grown much taller, already as tall as Fronsa. The fine black hair, as it did two years ago, can give him a certain special temperament. On the bridge of his nose was the black-rimmed glasses that Bezod had given him, the previous one was broken, and this was the second one. For two years, glasses had become a part of his body, which made him feel a lot more relaxed, because maintaining the mental eye was very physically demanding. As Eloni's little sidekick, Anton Salonia will always be asked to put on makeup before the other party hooks up with a boy, although his original appearance will not disgrace the other party. But to be honest, he admires Eloni's makeup skills, and he can dress him up as a handsome nobleman every time.

"We could go back and see them at any time. Lying on the pile of items on the flatbed, Fronza said dreamily, "Hurry up, the car has become lighter, and now they should not be at home." ”

"Are you worried that they will say that you are bullying me?" Anton Sharon smiled slightly, "No, in fact, I can move back by myself, I just want you to accompany me." ”

"I'm too tired to be with you—" As soon as Fronza finished speaking, he heard a faint snoring.

"Then you can rest for a while, I must have exhausted you from helping Bezod transcribe documents recently. Anton Salon, looking back at Fronsa, who was already asleep, walked into a narrow alley. He had to avoid the avenues of the outer city, because as a member of the Dawn Star, he had to be in as little public as possible. Like the Inquisitor, the Dawn Star is an organization directly subordinate to the Great Council and carrying out special tasks, and it is a principle that must be observed to hide their identity and whereabouts in ordinary times.

"It's getting closer and closer to the time we've been tasked with retrieving the runic amethyst, and for some reason, I'm looking forward to it. The entire Dawn Star knew that this was our first mission, and possibly the last. The difficulty and danger of the mission are obvious, and with our ability, the possibility of completing the mission is very small, and even the possibility of survival is very small. I now finally know that this is the summoner, this is the life of the summoner, the fate of the summoner. Born to keep peace, die to keep peace. It seems noble, but in fact, when this lofty mission is given to us who are as small as dust, it seems so ridiculous.

For two years, Sister Angela and I had only exchanged letters, and we both wanted to see each other. In any case, before I start this mission, I must see my sister. She is the only living relative of mine, and I can't leave regrets for myself, let alone for her. She probably wouldn't know that my mission this time was actually no different from sending me to death. I hope she never knows, and I don't want her to shed any more tears for me. How long can one person live in the heart of another? There may not be an answer to the question, because there is such a powerful thing as time in this world. All things in the world are equal in the face of time, and it takes eternity as the boundary, but it can destroy all eternity in the eyes of people. I think my sister will forget me one day. It seems that we are really as insignificant as dust, and when life is gone, I am afraid that there will be no evidence of our life......

Just as Anton Salon, while pulling the flatbed cart forward, Fronza suddenly opened his eyes, he looked at the dark blue sky in the alley, and those shining silver stars, and yawned loudly, "Anton Salon, stop-"

Anton Salon's thoughts were interrupted by Fronsa's words, and just as he wanted to turn around and ask, "What's wrong", a guy in a black robe and a mask appeared in front of him, and before he could react, the man drew a silver blade from his back and slashed at it.

"Who are you!?" asked Anton Sharon as he deftly dodged the attack of the man in black, but it seemed that the other party did not want to answer him, but only wanted to take his life.

Just as Anton Salon, dodging the attack of the men in black, another man in black appeared on the wall on the side of the alley, and his target was Fronsa, who was sitting on a flatbed. Seeing this, Fronza hurriedly flipped off the flatbed, dodged the enemy's attack, and retreated to one side of the wall. Strangely, the man in black did not chase Fronza, but placed his leather-gloved hand on the pile of items on the flatbed, as if sensing something.

"What are you looking for?" asked Fronza, tilting his head to look at the man in black, who didn't seem to hear him, "Your glove has the ability to sense something, right?"

"Fronsa, come and help!" Anton Salonn collapsed next to the flatbed, and the man in black in front of him stepped forward with his knife raised, ready to deliver a fatal blow. At this moment, Fronza suddenly appeared between him and the man in black, raised a hand, and pinched the blade of the man in black with his five fingers.

"Anton Saron, give me these two miscellaneous soldiers, there is another one over there!" Fronza motioned with his eyes to Anton Salon, to look at the end of the alley, and under the cover of the street lamp outside, a tall black figure was walking towards it.

Anton Saron stood up and looked at the guy, although he was more than ten feet away from the other party, that kind of powerful force field was not at the same level as the two men in black beside him. "It's such a mess, why do you give me such a powerful person every time?" he turned his head to look at Fronsa.

Fronza grinned at Anton Salon, "Because we have a good relationship!" As soon as the words fell, he took out a pencil from his coat pocket, and said that it was too late, and the man in black beside him shook off the blade, and before attacking himself, he stabbed the pencil in his hand into the blade of the opponent's knife, only to hear a crisp sound of "click", and the blade was suddenly broken in two.

"Wow! that's amazing!" said Anton Saroon, covering his mouth.

The two men in black were dumbfounded, they never expected that the other party could break the blade with a pencil. "Is that a physical attack with enchanted properties?

At this moment, the man in black, whose blade had not been broken, rushed forward with his knife. Fronza chuckled, turned his head to the side, and raised the hand holding the pencil, using the tip of the pencil to block the attack. The man in black was surprised at first, but quickly came to his senses and prepared to turn his blade and slash at Fronsa's arm. However, Fronza was a step ahead, and he had already anticipated his opponent's attack, so he slid the tip of his pencil along the blood groove of his opponent's blade, accompanied by a screeching sound like cutting metal, and a little spark burst between the tip of the pencil and the blade, as if Fronza was holding not a pencil, but something harder than steel. Just as the pencil slid into the gauntlet, he jerked up the hand holding the pencil and attacked the opponent's blade directly with the tip of the pencil. Maybe it was too fast, but this time he didn't even hear a sound, and the blade of the man in black was broken in two.

"How could it be—like this!?" the man in black looked at his broken blade, and his hands trembled.

"Did something incomprehensible happen?" said Fronza, pulling a pencil from his pocket, "Do you regret coming here?"

Anton Salons swore that his gaze never left Fronsa, but the speed of the opponent's attack was so fast that the man in black standing in front of him didn't even have a chance to scream, he was pierced through his body by a pencil and nailed to the stone wall on one side. The other man in black tried to take advantage of the opportunity to escape, but Fronza, apparently not wanting to give the other a chance, stretched out his left hand holding the pencil and flicked it out with his middle and ring fingers. A flash of yellow light flashed, and the man in black stopped, clutching one side of his shoulder and falling to the ground.

"Hmm-" Fronza pointed to the last man in black, "that guy is over to you!"

Anton Salonn looked at the tall black figure, and the sense of surprise that he had witnessed the battle of Fronsa for the first time suddenly disappeared without a trace. This guy's outfit is the same as the previous two men in black, wearing a black cloak and a black mask. Because the light was too dim, he couldn't see the other person's eyes.

"Are you the descendants of the family of the Invoker?" asked the man in black, his words devoid of emotion, as if he were a talking machine.

"Yes, are you looking for something?" Fronza sat down on the pile of items on the flatbed cart, looking laid back.

"I'm looking for the Tleraz Diary, I should be with you!" the man in black told the two descendants of the Supplicants his intentions.

"Well, then I guessed right!" said Fronsa, plucking at his ear, "but sadly, the diary is not with us now. ”

"That's a pity, I can only kill you and use your head to make a difference!" As soon as the man in black finished speaking, he pulled out the blade behind his back, and for some reason, the blade shone with a silver-white light, and it looked extremely dazzling.

Anton Salonn knew that Fronza had just lied, and the diary was now in his pocket, but he didn't have time to think about anything else at the moment, and he who was standing in front of him must be the first target of the other party's attack. At this moment, the blade that flashed white light slashed at him. Maybe the light was too dazzling, or maybe the opponent was too fast, and he didn't know how to defend against it. In short, he had a bloody wound on his body, which continued from his left shoulder to his navel. The pain was so great that he had to bend over, but his opponent didn't want to give him a chance to cushion. This time, the blade left a bone-deep wound on his raised left arm. If he hadn't raised his arm in time to defend himself, the wound would have appeared on his head.

"Anton Saron, don't tell me, you can't even beat such an opponent!" Fronsa, who was sitting on the flatbed, had no sympathy for Anton Salon, let alone wanted to help him.

"Oh?" the man in black approached Anton Saron, "is there any hidden power?"

"Of course! It's obvious!" said Fronza aloud, "and if you stab him a few more times, he won't die!"

"Okay, then just cut off the head, I haven't seen anyone who can still live if he loses his head!" said the man in black, slashing across the blade and slashing at Anton Sharon, who was already sitting on the ground.

Just as the blade was about to leave Anton Salon's body in a different place, a thick wall of ice stood between him and the blade, freezing the blade of his opponent in it. "Now I can finally see your attack!" Anton Sharon coughed vigorously as he finished speaking, bleeding from both wounds on his body, knowing that if he didn't get treatment sooner, he would definitely die.

"Can this level of spell stop me?" the man in black pulled his blade out of the ice wall and prepared for his next attack, however, at this moment-

"Secret Method: Ice Blast!"

A sharp ice edge with a thick bowl mouth struck the man in black at a very fast speed, and the man in black chuckled, his body turned into a cloud of black smoke to dodge Anton Saron's spell, and reappeared where he had just stood. However, the ice ridge that was already behind him suddenly shattered into a dozen pieces, and under the influence of some force, it turned around and attacked him.

"Second attack?" the man in black turned around and swung his blade with white light in his hand, blocking all the ice edges.

"That's not right—" Anton Sharon appeared behind the man in black at some point, and stretched out the index and middle fingers of his left hand, and a powerful spell energy was condensed at his fingertips, "It's a three-stage attack!"

"Secret Method: Ice Finger!"

"What ——!?" The man in black didn't realize that the other party would use a three-stage attack, and of course, even if he did, it was too late to react. And just like that, he was knocked five feet away by the blue magical energy.

"Well done, Anton Salon!" Fronza clapped as he sat on the flatbed.

"You-" Anton Ssalon's legs went limp, and he fell to the ground, "will you—heal?" he was already sweating, and his body was shaking from the pain of the wound.

"It's obvious, of course I will!" Fronza jumped off the flatbed and pressed his left index finger on Anton Salon's shoulder, where the wound began, "Relax, it'll be fine in a moment!"

"I'm—" The voice of the man in black came from not far away, and the guy had already crawled up, "I would have been knocked down by such magic!"

"Huh!?" Fronza tilted his head to look at the man in black who was trembling, "You can still stand up after being hit by Anton Salon's cold finger, your will is quite firm!"

"You can't attack anymore, give up!" said Anton Saron to the man in black, feeling much better in his spirits, and the wounds on his body still tickled.

"What are you kidding—we—" The man in black picked up the blade again, but the white light that had flashed on the blade was gone, "How can we Shadow Blade Warriors say give up!?"

"Shadow Blade Warrior!?" Fronza helped Anton Salonn up from the ground, "Hey, Anton Salon, kill him - oh no, don't kill people, just teach him a lesson!"

Anton Salons just wanted to refute Fronsa, but what he didn't expect was that the man in black rushed directly and threw himself to the ground - Anton Salons felt that his upper and lower teeth had just collided violently, but fortunately he reacted in time and didn't hit his head on the ground, otherwise he would have fainted.

"The diary must be on you, I feel it!" the man in black seemed to be crazy, his left hand gripped Anton Saron's neck, and his free right hand was raised flat at the side of his body.

"Secret Method: Scoop for Things!"

"——!Oh no," Fronza looked surprised, and immediately took a pencil out of his coat pocket and threw it at the man in black, who saw that he dodged it easily, and immediately teleported to the wall behind him using zero-second. And at this moment, the body of the man in black, who had lost his balance due to the dodging movement, was just about to hit the wall.

The next attack, if it can still be called an attack, is really indistinguishable with the naked eye. As a bystander, Anton Saron only saw two blurred lights and shadows, and quickly moved twice in front of him. Although they were only four feet close, they couldn't see the movements of Fronza and the man in black. However, what happened next, he saw clearly. The man in black used his force to quickly pull Fronza more than twenty feet away, and Fronza, who was standing beside him, threw a pencil at the other man, which had turned into a small ball of yellow light as it moved at high speed.

At that moment, the man in black put the diary he had just gotten into his pocket, and held the hilt of the knife with both hands, splitting the pencil flying towards him in two. As soon as he finished this defense, his right hand naturally drooped, as if his arm had been broken or dislocated.

"You can do what you did just now, your willpower is not ordinarily strong!" Fronza frowned, looking at his opponent's drooping right hand. At this moment, the man in black turned into a cloud of black smoke and disappeared.

"The diary has been taken!" Anton Salon, holding on to the handle of the flatbed truck, stood up from the ground.

"I was too careless to expect the other party to use magic. Fronza patted Anton Salon's shoulder, then grabbed the arm from the other's hand and healed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"That's my parents' relic! Why did they take it!" Anton Saron looked sad as he lowered his head.

"It's not just your parents' relics, the real name of that diary is 'Terez' Diary, and it's one of the six sacred relics that decipher the prophecy!" Fronza explained as he treated Anton Saron.

"W-what!?" Anton Salon, with a puzzled expression, "I've never heard you say—"

"Well, my treatment can only stop the bleeding. Fronza lowered Anton Salon's arm, "You go to the car and sit, this time I'll pull you!"

"Oh, no need, I'll go by myself!" Anton Salonn rejected Fronsa with a smile, although the wound was still a little painful, but the other party had already helped him heal, so he didn't want to trouble anyone else.

"I don't care if the wound bleeds again!" said Fronza, pulling up the flatbed and walking towards the end of the alley.

"Well, Fronsa, I didn't see your attack at all, did you hurt that person?"

"Ah, yes, it hurts, I wanted to hurt his right hand and make him let go of the diary, who knew that this guy was so badly injured and could still make that series of movements!" Fronza replied.

"Hurt - is it badly hurt?" Anton Saron was a little surprised, after all, this was the first time he had seen Fronsa fight, although he had known the other party for more than two years, he had no idea about the other party's ability.

"If you fully recover from an injury like that, it will take at least half a year. And even if it is restored, its right hand can no longer be used!" Fronsa's understated answer made Anton Ssalon's mouth open wide.

Three

The warm sunlight spread evenly on the ****** bushes in the courtyard, and the morning mist first dissipated, and some white petals were still stained with crystal water droplets, like children snuggled in their mother's arms, and like lovers who could not bear to be separated. The jasmine here is all white multi-petaled jasmine, which contrasts with the white building of the medical center. If you're lucky enough to enter the War College Library, located in the central tower, you'll see this beautiful white manor house on the banks of the Holy Galaxy through the windows there. Those white clouds are the ****** in the garden, and those that float in the clouds like a castle in the sky are the white buildings of the medical center.

It is none other than Anrela, the most popular person in the center, who "dresses up" the medical center as a heavenly city. Each jasmine flower was planted by her and her patients, and she carefully cultivated these white elves with the methods taught to her by her mother Elaina. In Anrela's eyes, each jasmine has an independent soul and mind, and they can distinguish the good, evil, beauty and ugliness in this world. Standing in front of these white elves, you must be in the most pious posture and open your heart. In this way, you can communicate with the flowers and hear their pure voice, which will filter out all the filth in your soul. So, every morning, the patients try to communicate with the ******, even though some of them used to kill people, even though some of them didn't understand the amorous situation before they came here.

Angela was wearing a thin white trench coat with a calf-length trench coat tied only in the middle and a silk dress underneath. Her hair was still black and shiny, half scattered over her shoulders and half draped behind her back. It seems that the face has not changed from two years ago, because there is no need for any change, and no one will know what beauty is until they see her. As a girl, Angela never dressed herself, and there was always a hint of sadness hidden between her two moderately thick eyebrows, but when combined with her pair of black pearl-like eyes, it would have the effect of calming even the roughest of people. Needless to say, when you see her, your soul will be in the most stable state, even if you are not alive, even if you are in misfortune.

Standing beside Angela was a girl in a red robe, as tall as Angela, with a long ponytail. Of course, what people won't forget when they see her are her forehead guard and face mask, which are the unique attire of the Ionian Balanced Samurai. Still, her beauty has not been concealed in the slightest, and if there is a pair of eyes to rival Angela's, it will be this girl's. It's just that in this pair of black eyes, there is more strength and coldness flashing, this coldness is not biting, but like a fire in an iceberg, it has a blazing core.

"Akali, you'll be discharged soon!" Annella picked up a white petal from the ground and put it in Akali's hair, then smiled.

"Well, yes. Akali replied lightly.

"Will you be reluctant to give up on me?" Annella grabbed Akali's arm and continued to walk forward, where there was an Ionian stone pavilion.

"Ah, this—" Akali gave an embarrassed expression, her cheeks flushed slightly, "yes, I'll come here to see you if I have the chance." ”

Angela grinned twice, "That's great! Actually, I don't want you to go - but you're a balanced samurai, so you have a lot of important things to do!"

"Actually—" Akali lowered her head, as if thinking of something.

"Well, actually?" asked Anrela, smiling.

"No, nothing. Thank you for taking care of me for the past two years, if it weren't for you, I might have been—" The latter half of Akali's sentence deliberately digressed the subject.

"Don't be so polite, we're friends!" Anrila and Akali walked into the stone pavilion, and the two sat on either side of the stone table in the center of the pavilion. "Actually, I'd love to introduce you to my brother!" she said, sitting down.

"Didn't he ask you to meet in two days?" Akali picked up the teapot and bowl in the middle of the stone table, "and when the time comes, I can fulfill your wish." ”

"Really! That's great!" Angela looked excited, taking the teapot and bowl from Akali's hand, "Let me do it!"

"Anrila, since I'm leaving, there are some things I have to tell you. Akali picked up the tea that Anrela had poured for herself.

"Well, what's the matter, you can say it!" Angela narrowed her eyes and smiled at the other.

Akali took off her mask, took a sip of tea, and coughed vigorously, "The taste—it's so bad—it's better not to drink that cup." ”

"You don't matter!" Annella looked worried, and she hurried over to Akali and patted her on the back.

"It doesn't matter. Akali took out a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her mouth, then quickly put on her mask, "But the tea here is really bad." ”

"Of course, it can't be compared to Ionia's, which is the place of origin after all. Angela smiled and returned to her seat.

"Two young ladies, the time for tea should be over!"

Not far away, the voice of Saluk, dressed in very old-fashioned coarse cloth clothes and with a beard, looked like a Demacian peasant. By this moment, he had already arrived in front of Anrela and Akali, and the two girls noticed almost simultaneously that the guy was not wearing shoes. Those dirty feet with yellow hair make you sick to your stomach when you see them.

"Well, Lord Saruk, you can have a cup of tea!" Anrila handed his cup of tea to Salek, then glanced at Akali and winked at the other.

Saluk looked at Anrila's smiling beautiful face and took the teacup, "I can't refuse, can I?" and he turned his gaze to Akali's body.

Akali nodded, she was actually smiling, but the other party couldn't see it because of the mask, "Of course you can't refuse an invitation from a lady!" she turned her head to the side, worried that she would be exposed.

Angela had already walked over to Akali's side, and the two of them tugged at each other's hands tightly, then turned their heads to Salek in unison. Watching each other drink the tea, they finally couldn't help it and laughed.

"Uh-hmm," Saluk pinched his neck with his hand, his bearded face twisted into a very ridiculous expression, "very—yes, it tastes great!" he said, his eyes wide, and he gave a thumbs up.

Both Anrela and Akali covered their mouths and laughed for a few moments before holding hands and walking up to Saleuk. "I'm sorry, Lord Saluk, I'm joking with you!" Anrila bowed politely.

"Well, to repay you for your kindness, I have bad news for you!" Saluk's eyes widened as he looked at Anrela and Akali.

Anrela and Akali exchanged glances, and their expressions became serious. "No—it's true. Anrela asked.

"Can bad news be fake?" replied Saleuk earnestly, "Regir has been captured by the Inquisitors, and if you are quick enough, you may be able to see him one last time." ”

- [paragraph]

Time: Morning

Location: War College Medical Center, Regier's office

Characters: Larrisius (son of Lariva, the Inquisitor in Cardinal), Regiel, Anrela, and the Inquisitors in Cardinal

(¤Regir was chained and knelt on the ground, pale and weak.) Beside him stood Larry Hughes and five Inquisitors, all dressed in red robes and hoods. Anrela is not playing at this time. )

Larry Hughes: Old thing, don't you feel like you're short on the horizon and you can disobey the orders of the just council!

Regier: Larry Hughes - I don't understand what you're talking about -

Larry Hughes: (kicks Regiel down) You've been hiding Akali and Saluk for two years, and you're still playing dumb with me!

Regiel: (looks up at Larry Hughes, looking surprised) You're trying to kill them - two!?

Larry Hughes: (leans down and stares at Reggier) Don't you understand this obvious truth? League of Legends secrets can't be known to outsiders!

Regier: Larry Hughes, you- are you on your father's side, or are you on Narciss's side?

Larry Hughes: (angry) Old fellow, are you a wall-head like you qualified to judge me!? What would your disciple Anrila think if she knew that you were one of her mother's murderers!?

Regier: (wide-eyed) I- I'll atone for my sins in my own way- I-

Larry Hughes: (stands up) Hand over Akali and Saroukh or you'll spend the rest of your life in Crystal Prison!

Regier: I don't know where they are—

Larry Hughes: Alright then, Pomps!(Turns and walks towards the door) Kill him!

(¤A tall, muscular Inquisitor walks up to Regiel and draws his sword—Annella rushes in through the door)

Anrela: Stop——!

Larry Hughes: (looks at Anrela, surprised) Y- you're exactly like Elaine!

Anrela: (to Larry Hughes) I am Elaina's daughter, Anrela. Please spare Mentor Regil, I know where Akali and Sarukh are.

Larry Hughes: So, you come and tell me.

Anrila: I hid them, and you can't find them!

Larry Hughes: Very good answer, you even have the same style as your mother!

Pomps: My lord, are you going to kill this girl?

Larry Hughes: (turns around and turns his back to Angela) I declare beforehand that she is indeed Elaina's daughter.

Pomps: (walks over to Anrela) I don't care who you are, tell me where Akali and Saroukh are, or I'll kill you.

Anrila: (with a firm expression) I won't tell you, they may have left the inner city by now, and with their skills, you won't be able to catch them!

Larry Hughes: (turns around again, facing Anrela) I don't think the two of them can run away regardless of your life or death, and if they were like that, you wouldn't treat them either, would you?

Anrila: (in a firm tone) Yes! (looks at Larry Hughes, even though she can't see the other person's face) As long as it's someone who is injured, I'll treat it! Including you, Lord Larrisius!

Larry Hughes: (takes a step back) You say- what did you say!?

Angela: I can't see your face, I can't see your eyes, but I can feel the pain in your heart and the burning desire to prove yourself. This is very similar to my brother!

Larry Hughes: (surprised) Is your brother, Anton Salon? Sure enough, are you influenced by his power and can see the hearts of others?

Angela: I don't know that. But I really want to feel the heart of a person, like this Inquisitor (pointing to Poncks), who is emotionally unstable and has no mercy!

Pomps: (angrily swings his sword at Angela) Don't jump to conclusions, smelly girl!

Larry Hughes & amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; Regiel (almost in unison): Stop——!!

(¤A silver streak shoots out from Angela's collarbone, forming a massive protective barrier around her.) When Pomps' blade touched the barrier, the powerful reaction force catapulted him all away, and his blade turned into pieces. Everyone present, including Anrela herself, was amazed. )

Angela: (lowers her head and covers her left collarbone, her expression a little painful) It hurts- what is this-

Larry Hughes: (Walks forward, pulls Angela's hand away, looks at the blood-red charm on her collarbone, touches it lightly with her index finger, and then looks at her own index finger) It's Elaine's magic, your mother left you something precious. You're worth our research, Anrila!

Pomps: (climbs up from the side of the room, cobweb-like cracks in the wall behind him) Dead girl!What kind of magic did you just use!?

Larry Hughes: Don't worry, Ponks, we have time to study her powers! (Commanded left and right) Take Annella away!

Reggier: (crawls over) Larry Hughes! You can't do that! Don't forget, Elaine saved you!

Larry Hughes: Until I change my mind and take you to Crystal Prison, you'd better shut up, old thing!

(¤The Inquisitors leave Regiel's office with Angela)